Chapter 2
My husband's name was Henry Lane. He was a visiting professor in the architecture department at Capital University.
The way he and Vanessa Summers met? Honestly, it was straight out of a cheesy drama.
At the end of last year, Capital University held an architecture design exhibition, and Henry was one of the judges.
Vanessa was there, wearing a faded old shirt, handing out flyers in the exhibition hall.
Henry noticed her right away, a college girl with clear, defiant eyes, looking both vulnerable and stubborn.
Henry felt a pang of sympathy and started supporting her financially.
He helped her with her designs, took her out for meals, and, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, they ended up in bed together.
"I don't know exactly when they crossed the line.
"Henry kept their affair hidden. He even bought a burner phone to cover his tracks.
"It wasn't until three months ago that I started to notice something was off."
I leaned back on the sofa, absently fiddling with the strap of my bag.
That day, he left the bathroom door half open. I went in to grab a towel and noticed his shirt had a faint scent of perfume.
Expensive cologne. The luxury kind.
How could a student who claimed she couldn't even afford a meal and had to hand out flyers for tuition be wearing perfume that cost over a thousand dollars?
My gaze turned icy.
From that day forward, I kept a close eye on him.
I checked his dashcam, dug through his transaction history, and even went as far as hacking into his burner phone.
I saw their sickeningly cringey chat logs.
Vanessa kept calling him "dear" and "honey" over and over, her messages full of syrupy sweetness and fake innocence, like she was trying to wrap him around her finger.
James's breath hitched, suddenly growing heavier.
His fingers tightened around the glass, knuckles turning white.
I took a deep breath and kept going.
"I tried to dig into Vanessa's background.
"But it was weird. Almost nothing useful turned up about her.
"Her school records were totally average, and her social media was just packed with posts about part-time gigs and eating street food, all those motivational updates.
"It was almost too perfect, like someone had carefully faked every bit of it.
"Since I couldn't find anything, I had to follow her myself.
"I cleared my schedule for a week, rented a car with bogus plates, and shadowed her for seven days straight.
"I watched her and Henry check into some cheap hotel, saw him buy her a necklace for a few hundred dollars, and she was so moved, she was practically crying her eyes out.
"And then, I witnessed the juiciest moment of all."
I deliberately paused, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as I caught James's pupils contract ever so slightly.
"That day, Henry had barely stepped out of the hotel before Vanessa followed almost immediately after.
"She slipped into a dead-end alley with no cameras.
"Ten minutes later, a black Maybach pulled out from the other end of the alley.
"I tailed the Maybach all the way, watching it roll into the most exclusive private villa district on the outskirts of Capital City."
I leaned forward a bit, fixing my gaze on James's icy, stone-faced expression.
"That so-called broke student, the one who acted like she couldn't even afford a cup of coffee in front of Henry, stepped out of the car decked head-to-toe in this season's Chanel couture.
"That's when it finally clicked—my dumb husband was just a plaything for a rich heiress out here sampling the lowlife for kicks.
"Mr. Sterling, your fiancée's family? They've got the kind of wealth most people can only fantasize about."
James closed his eyes and tilted his head back, swallowing hard—his Adam's apple moved sharply, betraying just how rattled he was.
When he opened his eyes again, they were shrouded in a gloom so deep, it looked like nothing could ever clear it away.
"Henry Lane..." James chewed over the name, his voice dripping with a cold, murderous intent.
He suddenly turned, his eyes locking onto me, sharp as a blade.
"Is your husband loaded?"
I was stunned for a moment, then just snorted with a laugh.
"Rich? Please. With his pathetic salary, he has to count every dollar just to even think about buying a decent car.
"The house we live in? My family paid for that. The Porsche he drives? That was my anniversary present.
"And the money he used to take Vanessa to those cheap hotels? He scraped it straight out of our joint account for his little secret stash!"
At this point, my rage finally boiled over.
"He's using my money to bankroll your fiancée as his mistress!
"This is hands down the craziest thing I've ever seen in my entire life!"
James let out a brief, almost dismissive laugh.
"A freeloading loser like him, thinking he can mess with someone that's mine."
He dropped his gaze, toying with the lighter in his hand. With a sharp click, a blue flame flickered to life.
"So, Mrs. Lane, how are you planning to handle this?"
"I want him kicked out with absolutely nothing, and his reputation completely destroyed.
"Mr. Sterling, why don't you do your job and keep your fiancée under control?
"Since the Sterling family raised her, maybe you should keep her locked up where she belongs.
"Letting her out to bite people isn't just gross; it's downright pathetic.
"If you can't rein her in, I won't mind stepping in and teaching her some real manners myself!"
James closed the lighter with a crisp click.
He looked up, his eyes dark and bottomless, fixing right on me.
Instead of anger, there was a playful glint in his gaze.
He nodded in approval.
"Cocky and clever. I like that."
James stood up, his tall frame instantly radiating an intense, dominant presence.
He walked right up to me, towering over me, his gaze cold and commanding.
"Since we're working together, we should have a proper way to address each other."
He leaned in a little, his voice low and husky.
"What's your name?"
"Nina Shaw."
I met his intense gaze without flinching and said my name.
"Good, Nina Shaw." James's lips curled into a subtle smile as he reached out his hand.
His fingers were long and defined, still cool from the whiskey.
I met his handshake head-on, gripping his hand firmly. "Looking forward to working with you, Mr. Sterling."